


Stiles is Not This Easy on a First Date

by house_of_lantis



Series: Neckz-N-Throats Magazine Stories [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neckz-n-Throats verse, Time stamp for "The Collar"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a time stamp for the Sterek fic "The Collar" which is part of the Neckz-n-Throats verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: http://theserpentgirl.tumblr.com/

Derek watched as Stiles laughed at him, leaning casually against the doorway and completely comfortable in his pale, unmarked skin. The human was tall and slender, his muscles defined but not overly developed. He let his eyes slide down Stiles’s frame, messy brown hair, upturned nose, the neatly trimmed patch of pubes, to the shameless hardening of his cock. After watching the photo shoot, Derek could see why Stiles was a popular model for his magazine. A long and slender neck would always symbolize ultimate submission to werewolves; and while Stiles was good looking enough to be on the slick pages of Neckz-n-Throats, Derek admitted that there was an indefinable quality to the human that made Stiles desirable to his kind. The past hour was one long, seductive performance just for Derek; and Derek felt his werewolf rumbling under his flesh, wanting to come out and put his tongue on the human’s skin. He saw the way that the pretty brown eyes tracked _him_ like Stiles was the predator in the room.

Maybe he was. It had been a long time since Derek allowed his werewolf to enjoy courting a potential new lover and Derek was attracted to people who didn’t submit easily. He was an Alpha, but he didn’t want a weaker partner.

Stiles cocked his hip and smirked. That little eyebrow wriggle was the last draw; he thought Stiles was lucky that he was human, otherwise Derek might be tempted to show Stiles exactly what it really meant to go on his knees and bare his neck to Derek. He narrowed his gaze as Stiles pursed his lips and made a comical face at Derek, taunting him. It made him want to stalk across the room and show Stiles his fangs…and then show Stiles exactly what he could do with them. He could make Stiles _howl_.

The invitation was clear; and it was a challenge thrown down at Derek’s feet. Derek let out a growl when Stiles winked cheekily and closed the dressing room door between them. He took a step towards the small room when he felt a firm hand pressed against his chest.

“Whoa, rein that in, little brother.”

He snapped his head to look at his sister.

“What exactly do you think you’re going to do?” She said, calmly. “Are you really going to follow him into the dressing room and fuck him? A model, under contract, with our magazine. You don’t think you’re just opening us up for, _ohhh_ I don’t know, a sexual harassment lawsuit?”

“I was invited,” he said, gritting his teeth.

Laura raised her eyebrow. “I didn’t hear him actually say those words.”

“Fuck.” Derek sighed, shaking off his werewolf’s needs. He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d lost control over himself; the kind of dark thoughts that ran through his mind. “What the hell am I doing?”

“Well, I can tell you what you are **not** doing. You’re not going all _Alpha_ on Stiles and you’re definitely not going to do him in my studio. If you want him, you’re going to treat him like the lovely person that he is. You’re going to ask him out on a proper date like the gentleman our father raised you to be and you’re going to take him someplace nice and feed him a huge amount of food because the boy can packed it away. And if, and only if, Stiles invites you for more, then you are both consenting adults in whatever you do after that,” she said, dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m not so out of control that I’d attack him, Laura. Jesus!” He said, dragging the werewolf back within him, snarling and frothing to get his paws and his teeth into the delicious human. He locked the werewolf down, forcing himself under control.

Laura’s eyes glowed a deep red and she leaned closer, sniffing him.

He stiffened, making a face at her for being such an overbearing older sister. He refused to be intimidated by her though, even though she could probably beat the crap out of him in a fair fight.

“I want to see all of the footage taken during the shoot.” He looked at the closed door, imagining what Stiles was doing in there. Was he sprawled across the couch with his legs parted, his hand stroking his cock? Was he leaning against the wall with his hands braced, looking over his shoulder waiting for Derek to come to him? “All of them.”

“You want a private set to jerk off to?”

Isaac tripped over something while Erica pressed both of her hands over her mouth trying to smother her laugh.

“God, Laura, really—“ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You always make me feel like I’m the biggest asshole in the world.”

“Good. Someone needs to make sure that your over-inflated ego doesn’t get the best of you.”

Derek looked at her and hung his head. “Never mind. Just send me the final proofs for the next issue and delete any of the unused footage.”

He could tell that Laura’s surprised, but pleased. He never should’ve even asked, it was protocol to delete the photos that weren’t needed.

“I’ll have the final proofs sent up to the editors on Monday morning.”

“Thank you,” he said, as graciously as he could muster.

Laura chuckled and reached up to pat him on the head. Derek jerked away and smoothed down his hair, walking to the make-up tables to look at his reflection in the mirror. He heard the dressing room door open and he turned to see that Stiles was dressed, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Derek was surprised to see just how young Stiles looked wearing clothes.

Stiles grinned at him, a smug look on his face, like he’d gotten one over on Derek. But he could also smell the arousal and disappointment coming off of the human. Derek leaned against the edge of the make-up table, his hands curled around the edge. He relaxed his stance and watched as Stiles approached him.

“Hey,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Laura and Isaac by the computer. He turned and met Derek’s gaze. “I was just thinking that—“

“Are you free for the rest of the day? I thought we could have an early dinner.”

Stiles blinked, his mouth opening slightly. It was clear to Derek that Stiles expected sex, but he didn’t expect to be asked out on a date.

“Uh…yeah, yes,” he said, raising both of his eyebrows. He stared at Derek for a long moment and then made a face. “Really?”

“Let me just text my driver to pick us up,” Derek said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Do you like Italian? I know a place that—“

“Actually, my jeep is in the parking garage and I should get it out before I end up paying the full day fee. I could just meet you?”

Derek shut down his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. “Why don’t you drive?”

*****

“His name is Roscoe and I know it was stupid to bring him to the city because what kind of broke college student brings a car to New York, right? It’s not like I can actually afford garaging him or anything, let alone the insurance, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have my own wheels, you know?”

Derek stared at the weird blue-gray CJ-5 Jeep; the nicest thing he could say was that it had seen better days…thirty years ago.

“—but I just couldn’t leave him back home. My dad would’ve just garaged him or sold him. And we’ve been through a lot together,” he said, patting the hood affectionately. “He belonged to my mom. She loved this old heap of junk. I feel like if I got rid of him that I’d be getting rid of a part of her.”

Derek sighed, biting his tongue from saying anything.

“Get in,” Stiles said, hopping into the driver’s side and tossing his backpack in the back seat.

Derek wondered if his tetanus shots were up to date. He opened the door and tried not to stare at the crumpled McDonald’s bags strewn on the floor or the…god, what were these smells? At some point, he was certain that Stiles had transported a dead animal in the vehicle.

“Stiles, I can’t be seen in this,” he said, regretfully. He had an image to maintain and if any of the city’s paparazzi saw him riding around in this jeep, he’d make Page Six but for all the _wrong_ reasons.

“Ohmygod, don’t be such a fucking snob and get your werewolf ass in the car, Derek,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “If this jeep was good enough for my mom, it’s good enough for your cute Alpha ass.” Derek just stared at him. “I’m seriously going to be insulted in like five seconds.”

Derek sighed and got into the jeep, slamming the door and pushing down on the lock knob. He jiggled the handle to make sure that the door stayed shut. He jerked the seat belt four times before it finally released and he could pull it across his body to lock it into place. Stiles stared at him for a long moment and then started the engine.

“Stiles, your engine needs a tune up,” he said, wincing from the various screeches and thumps and squeals. “And your transmission is going to die on you in like 100 miles…and you have a slow oil drip.”

Stiles laughed. “I know, dude, that’s one of the reasons why I took this last job.”

“Please don’t tell me that you’re going to put all the money you made on fixing this…vehicle.”

Derek watched as Stiles moved the jeep through the maze of the parking garage with a strangely appealing expertise.

“Not all of it,” he said, pulling up to the gates. He pushed in the fare ticket and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the gate lifted. “Just enough to get me back to California when I graduate.”

“I can’t believe that it made it here in the first place.”

“Took like a week, but me and my best bud, Scott, made the trip out together. He flew back home after he helped me get settled here,” he said, a fond smile on his face as he pulled the vehicle into New York City traffic. “All right, so where are we going again?”

“I think we’re going to need to stop by your place so you can change,” he said, looking over Stiles’s casual clothes. “We could just stop at John Varvatos for a jacket…maybe a shirt and tie…a whole new suit. It’s not far from here on Spring Street—“

“Forget it, man! I’m not spending all my money on clothes. Look, we don’t have to go to some fancy place where I have to wear a suit and tie, okay? There’s like a million restaurants in the city and I’m not going to sit across a table from you making polite small talk surrounded by a bunch of wannabes and eating a tiny portion of overpriced food,” he said, grinning over at Derek.

“So where do you want to go?” He said, curiously.

“You like Korean?”

****

Stiles turned on West 32nd and Derek watched as the store signs went from English to the block typography of Korean. Everyone knew it as Korea Way. It was an eclectic neighborhood, tucked away between 5th and Broadway, neon lights announcing its presence, aggressive but friendly to locals and tourists. His friends, who had visited Seoul, often told him that Koreatown wasn’t that different. There were hundreds of independently owned businesses – touristy tchotchke shops, clothing stores, stores that also sold knock-off brand fakes, electronic stores, real estate agencies, dry cleaners, seamstresses and tailors, shoemakers, restaurants, bookstores, supermarkets, bakeries, stationery shops, hair salons, nail salons, massage parlors, night clubs, bars, _noraebangs_ , banks, doctor’s offices, hotels, some businesses were open 24-7. It was a thriving community; the five major Korean werewolf families kept to themselves and more often than not policed the community and kept everyone out of trouble.

“I love this place. There’s nothing like it back home,” Stiles said, grinning widely as he moved the jeep down a narrow alley and parked it behind a trash dumpster.

“You can’t park here,” Derek said. “You’re going to get ticketed.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it, we’ll be in and out in like twenty minutes.”

Derek followed him into a restaurant called Kun Jip, which Stiles informed him that the literal translation was “Big House” but the meaning of it had to do with the patriarchal status of Korean families. The spicy and tangy smells slammed into Derek as soon as they walked into the small, noisy restaurant. Something clicked in his hind brain that had him salivating over the smoky aromas of meats cooking on table top gas stoves. It was packed and there were a dozen people already hanging out in the tiny hostess area waiting for a table to open up.

“Looks like it’s going to be a long wait. I can get us a table at—“ Derek said, pulling out his phone and looking through his contacts list for nearby restaurants.

“Dude, you’re with me,” Stiles said, taking the phone and shutting it down and slipping it into Derek’s jacket pocket. “Give me a sec.”

Stiles looked around the restaurant and started waving his arms towards the back of the restaurant where an older Korean woman saw him and waved him into the restaurant, pointing at a two-person table that was open near the kitchens.

“See?” He said, looking at Derek over his shoulder.

Derek grinned, following Stiles into the restaurant. He looked at the different types of foods on the tables of the other diners, enjoying the smell of meats and spicy vegetables and rich broth stews.

“ _Noona_! You are so awesome! Thanks for the table without the wait,” Stiles said, giving the woman a big hug.

“You call me ‘ _noona_ ’ again and I slap you,” she said, slapping the back of his head. “Not polite!”

“Well, do you want me to call you ‘ _ajuma_ ’ instead? That’s horrible!” He joked, hugging the woman again. “This is my friend Derek, he’s new.”

“New to Korean food?” She gave Derek a critical look, her lips pursing in disappointment. “He look like he eat lot of meat. He werewolf, right? I send you four kinds and you eat it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles said, pushing Derek into a chair and sitting across from him. “Bring us everything, _Noona_. I’m starving!”

“You always starving, I think you have two stomachs.” She slapped the back of his head playfully and walked off grumbling to herself in Korean as Stiles laughed, his hands tapping the table.

“She totally loves me; I’m like a favorite son to her.”

“What does that mean? _Noona_?”

“It means ‘big sister,’ what a guy would call an older woman who isn’t married. It’s totally not appropriate for me to call her that, but I do it because she really does think it’s hilarious.”

“So what should I order?”

“Forget it, we don’t have enough time to start your education on Korean cuisine. _Noona’s_ going to bring out a little of everything for you to sample. And when she said that she was going to send out four kinds of meat, she’s not kidding. Just trust me and try everything. I guarantee that you’ll love it,” he said, smiling broadly at Derek.

***

Laura wasn’t joking when she said that Stiles could put away food. He ate everything that was brought to their table, wielding his wooden chopsticks like weapons, stabbing the air as he talked about everything from his major to driving across the country to his plans for going to grad school closer to his dad even though he wanted to stay in New York. Stiles rambled off the various Korean names of the side dishes that were community foods, some of them sounded so absurd Derek was sure Stiles was making them up, and urging Derek to try this or that. He waved _Noona_ over to bring them more.

Derek enjoyed watching Stiles in action, taking control of the situation with ease and good humor. It was that confidence that encouraged Derek to try the different types of Korean food, determined to explore fearlessly. He found a few dishes that became new favorites and he watched as Stiles beamed at him approvingly. The spicy _kimchi_ made his mouth water; but looking across the table at Stiles made his mouth water, too.

He must’ve given a sign because Stiles suddenly stopped talking, staring at Derek’s mouth. He looked away and shoved pieces of meat into his mouth, blushing to the tips of his ears. Derek smiled as he calmly turned the meats on the cooking tray.

Derek dropped a few of the choicest pieces onto Stiles’s plate and raised his eyebrows. “Here, these are the best pieces.”

“Thanks,” Stiles murmured, staring into his rice bowl. He flicked his eyes up at Derek and licked his lips nervously, tapping his chopsticks on the edge of his bowl. “So um…I’ve been talking about myself this whole time.”

“Maybe you’re just more interesting than me.”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? Dude, I’ve probably read everything that’s ever been printed about you…ohmygod that’s not supposed to sound stalkerish or anything.”

He watched as Stiles blushed again. Derek sighed and let out a soft laugh. “To be honest, the paparazzi have printed everything there is about me. There’s not much to tell.”

“I don’t believe that,” Stiles said, looking at Derek. “I don’t believe that you’re just tabloid fodder.” He looked around and then leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Look, if you think I’m just here with you because I’m going to sell a story to the papers—“

“I don’t.”

“Okay then,” he said, grinning slightly and sitting back in his chair.

“So, you’re from California. What part?”

“Oh! I thought Laura told you. Beacon Hills. Small world, huh?”

Derek looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “Really?”

“My dad’s the Sheriff. John Stilinski.” Stiles laughed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, of course everyone knows the Hales. Beacon Hills wouldn’t be Beacon Hills without the Hale family.”

“He was a Deputy when I was a kid.”

Stiles nodded and Derek could tell that he was proud of his dad. “I remember you – well, not really, I remember the _idea_ of you; I don’t know if it’s an actual childhood memory or something that my brain put together now, I mean I was only eight at the time, but when my mom died, your family came to her funeral. Your mom was really awesome to us; she made sure that dad and I were doing okay. She always brought us food; and when she couldn’t come, she sent like the rest of the town to feed us.”

Derek nodded. “That’s definitely something she’d do. I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, dude. I don’t expect you to remember. It was a long time ago and I’m sure you and your family went to a lot of funerals, you know, to show respect and to support the town.”

Those years in Beacon Hills were a blur for Derek; from the time he could remember, he and his siblings were taught that Beacon Hills wasn’t just their territory and they weren’t just landowners, the people who lived in the town were all part of the Hale family; part of the Hale pack. And it was their duty to protect and support the Hale pack of Beacon Hills.

“Plus, I saw those old modeling pictures of you that your mom took,” he said, snickering. “You were such a cute little cub.”

Derek growled at him but that only made Stiles laugh even harder.

“Why did you quit modeling? I mean, you could be a rich and famous model now.”

He snorted. “Instead of a rich and famous magazine editor and publisher.”

“Oh yeah, you got me there.”

“I hate having my picture taken,” he said, shrugging.

“But, man, your picture is literally everywhere in this city. You can’t go two blocks without seeing you on the front page of some tabloid or in some magazine.”

“And I hate it. If it’s for work and I know I have to do press for the magazine or if I show up at an event to support a friend, then I’ll do it. But I hate looking at pictures of myself,” Derek admitted, glancing up at Stiles.

“The irony is killing me.”

Derek raised his eyebrows, waving his chopsticks for Stiles to go on.

“You’re one of the most photogenic people I’ve ever met and you hate having your picture taken.”

He grunted in agreement, wrapping his meat in an Asian lettuce and tucking it into his mouth.

“And you’re a magazine publisher.”

Derek grunted again, chewing slowly.

Stiles laughed, sitting back in his chair, and the sound warmed Derek, made his werewolf happy.

***

Derek refused to let Stiles pay the bill. He was pretty sure that there would be pictures of him, taken via cellphones and uploaded to all kinds of social media sites. Multiple pictures of Derek Hale, senior editor of Neckz-n-Throats Magazine, rough-housing with a young man in a Korean BBQ for the bill so that he could pay for their date.

“Give me the bill now, Stiles, or I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“Oh man, the look on your face. I think you kind of wolfed out for like a minute! Rawr.” Stiles curled his fingers in the air next to his face and let out a puppy growl. Derek’s werewolf perked up at the sound.

He sighed, putting his card back into his wallet and tucking his wallet into his inner pocket. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slipped it out to see a text message from Laura with one of the incriminating pictures attached. From that angle, it clearly looked like he had Stiles in a headlock, which was farthest from the truth. He shut down his phone and shoved it into his pocket.

“Come on, I’m ready for some dessert.”

“You ate all the Asian pear.”

“Psssh! That’s not dessert; that was to cleanse the palette.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” Stiles said, throwing his arm around Derek’s shoulders as they walked out of the restaurant. There were even more people waiting to be seated now. “There’s this awesome bakery in the Village; they make the best cupcakes in the entire world.”

Stiles was pressed against Derek’s side, his body warm and lithe and full with food. Derek wondered if Stiles should even drive in this condition. They walked to the jeep, Stiles tucked against him, while Derek contemplated pressing Stiles against the brick wall and getting a taste of him. He was just about to lean in to nuzzle Stiles’s neck when the human broke away from him, hurrying to his jeep.

“Shit!”

Derek growled, running after Stiles. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Damn it!” He showed Derek the long piece of paper, his lips pursed in a frown. “I got a ticket!”

Derek laughed so hard, his hands pressed against his thighs as his body shook.

“Shut up!”

*****

Bob’s Bakery was located in the heart of the Village and situated in the basement. It looked plenty shady from the outside, but as promised, Bob made the most delicious cupcakes Derek had ever tasted.

“I used to work here my first year in the city,” Stiles said, licking the chocolate frosting from his hand. “I know all of Bob’s secret recipes.”

“Don’t forget you’re sworn to secrecy, Stilinski!”

“To my death, I know,” Stiles said, making the zipping motion across his mouth.

“It’s crack cocaine, isn’t it?” Derek said, reaching for his third chocolate cupcake. “He mixes in an illegal substance; nothing should taste this good.”

“Then you need to buy a dozen with you before you leave,” Bob called from behind the counter.

“Two dozen, please,” Derek said, wiping his lips and his beard of chocolate frosting. “Just open a bill for us and I’ll pay for everything before I leave.”

Everyone in the bakery laughed and Stiles winked at Derek.

“How come you’re not stuffing your face?”

“Because I’ve built up immunity over the years. You know how you always think that just because you love cupcakes, working in a cupcake bakery is going to be a dream come true? Well, it was a dream for like the first couple of weeks. But every day, cupcake after cupcake, it just loses its flavor.”

“Bite your tongue, boy,” Bob called from the kitchens.

“Love you, big guy!” Stiles called back, chuckling. “I did love working here, but it wasn’t enough to cover all of my bills. My scholarship pays for tuition and room and board, but not much else. And I didn’t want to keep asking my dad for money all the time, even though I know he’d give it to me without a question. That’s why I did the photo shoots at Neckz-n-Throats.”

“You really aren’t going to come back?”

Stiles shrugged, but shook his head. “The money’s good and knowing Peter, he’d keep booking me for more shoots, but I know that there’s going to come a time when he’s going to want more. From me. You know?”

“That’s an accurate assessment of my Uncle.”

And Derek wasn’t willing to share Stiles – not with his Uncle, not with his sister, and not with the thousands of strangers who bought his magazine.

He finished his cupcake and wiped his mouth and hands. Stiles watched him, his hands curled around his coffee cup, and Derek wanted those hands on his body.

Bob came out with two large white boxes tied with strings.

“Thank you,” Derek said, paying their bill and leaving a hundred in the tip jar.

“Bring the kid back whenever,” Bob said, shaking Derek’s hand. “We miss him a lot.”

“I will.”

They got into Stiles’s jeep, but not before Derek made sure to secure the boxes in the back seat. He tugged on his seatbelt as Stiles started the engine.

“So where can I drop you?”

Derek smiled at him. “I’m on the Upper West Side, at The Dakota.”

“The Dakota! Ohmygod, tell me your neighbors with Yoko Ono!”

“Not quite,” he said, chuckling. “I have one of the smaller townhouses there.” He could feel Stiles buzzing with curiosity. “Want to come up for a tour?”

Stiles grinned, reeking of the sweet scent of arousal. “Yeah. I’d like that.”


	2. Chapter 2

Derek kissed him, slipping his tongue into Stiles’s warm mouth, licking across his tongue and sucking on that tempting bottom lip. He held Stiles against the front door and moved his hips against Stiles, feeling the human hard against him. He let out a little growl, hearing Stiles’s heartbeat increase and scent of his arousal sharpen. “Want the tour?”

Stiles shivered and panted noisily as Derek nipped his earlobe, licking down his neck, tugging on his shirt so that he could nip at the place where his neck joined his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“This is the front door,” Derek said, turning Stiles around and pressing against his back. He growled low against the nape of his neck, inhaling the musky scent of him. He even smelled of the smoky aromas from the restaurant and Derek couldn’t help but lick the vulnerable skin of his neck.

“It’s nice…wood,” Stiles gasped, pressing his hips back and rubbing his ass against Derek’s cock. “It’s very _hard_.”

Derek laughed, turning Stiles around and bending over to pick him up, throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him into the rest of his apartment. “Foyer. Staircase to the second floor. Parlor.”

“The view from here is gorgeous,” Stiles said, his hands curling over Derek’s ass and massaging him.

“Living room.” Derek said, crossing through the rooms.

“I’m sure it’s award winning.”

Stiles pinched his ass and Derek laughed, reaching up and slapping Stiles across his ass.

“Oh! So you like it kinky, huh?”

“ _Master_ bedroom,” he said, dropping Stiles lightly across his bed and immediately curling over him.

“Yeah, master bedroom. This is my _favorite_ room by far,” Stiles murmured, pulling him down for a messy kiss, arms curling behind Derek’s neck. “Clothes off now, Derek.”

He nearly shredded both of their clothes, getting Stiles naked, shoes flying across the room and thudding against the dresser.

“Ohmygod, that’s my favorite tee-shirt – Jesus, slow down for a sec!” Stiles laughed, batting Derek’s hands away. “You’ve seen me naked, let me see you.” He grabbed Derek’s wrists. Derek smiled as he sat back against Stiles’s thighs, letting him look his fill. As a werewolf, he was genetically predisposed to being fit and trim, his body tuned to the demands of nature. “Dude, do you just work out all the time or is this your natural state?”

Stiles let go of his wrists, long fingers slipping down Derek’s chest and to his stomach and over his thighs.

“Werewolf, remember?”

“Not likely to forget,” Stiles said, smiling up at him. Derek grinned, puffing out his chest and thrusting out his hips. Stiles snorted, his eyes widening. “Ohmygod, are you _preening_? You’re totally preening!”

Derek growled, narrowing his eyes. “Stiles—“

“No, no, I like it! You should be damn proud, you’re freaking gorgeous, it’s unreal,” he said, biting his lip to hold back his laughter. “Feel free to show off all of your goods any time you want.”

“You never stop talking, do you?”

Stiles licked his lips, his hands moving down Derek’s body, hands curling around his cock and stroking him slowly. “So we doing this?”

“Have you ever heard of foreplay?”

“Is that what this is? Werewolf foreplay? Are you going to growl at me some more?” Stiles giggled, fingers playfully tickling Derek’s sides.

Derek impatiently leaned forward so he could curl his hands around Stiles’s neck and watched as Stiles gazed up at him, trust in his eyes as he leaned his head back as Derek ran his thumbs across his collar bones. He watched as Stiles swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, a zing of excitement pulsed through Derek’s entire body at Stiles’s submission to him while his mind flooded with images of marking that neck with his teeth.

It had been a long time since Derek wanted to mark someone as his own; to make himself emotionally vulnerable to someone. Humans, and even some werewolves, were under the false impression that a werewolf’s mark on a mate meant that he or she was the one in control. But Derek knew that it was the mate who was in control of the relationship, that it was their decision to accept a werewolf’s mark, to continue wearing it, and to be the one to end it and walk away. Werewolves might have physical strengths, but a mate had the true power to destroy them.

“Got awfully quiet,” Stiles said, blinking up at him. “Second thoughts?”

“Not with you.”

“Why didn’t you come into the dressing room? Not to toot my own horn, but I thought you were interested.”

“Trust me, I wanted to.” Derek grinned at him, trailing his fingernails down Stiles’s firm chest, rubbing the pert nipples until they were hard. “But I came to my senses; I’d rather have you here, in my bed.”

 _Where he belonged_ ; but Derek thought it might be too early to tell Stiles that. He didn’t even know if Stiles wanted to do this again, if this wasn’t just a one night stand for him, or something that Stiles might want – to date Derek.

Derek slid back, hands still trailing down Stiles’s smooth skin, fingers framing the hard cock bobbing against Stiles’s lower belly. He bent down and pressed his nose against the base, inhaling deeply the scent of musk and need and clean sweat and pre-come. He heard Stiles moan when he licked up slowly to the tip, sucking in the taste of him and licking around the head.

“Killing me here, Derek,” Stiles stuttered out, reaching down to curl his fingers into Derek’s hair.

“You taste good,” Derek said, licking and sucking slowly, looking up Stiles’s body to meet the dark eyes looking down at him, the human’s mouth was parted and he was panting lightly. “Tangy and ripe for it.”

“Oh shit, I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”

Derek chuckled, pulling his mouth from the head and licking it slowly. “Human males…no stamina whatsoever.”

Stiles grabbed a handful of Derek’s hair. “Fuck me.”

Derek slid up Stiles’s sweat damp body and kissed him, pressing him back against the bed, and rubbed his hard cock against Stiles, heat and wetness creating the perfect friction. He sat up and chuckled when Stiles made a protesting noise. He moved to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out the condom and lube, tossing them on the bed. He dropped down to his back beside Stiles and got comfortable, tucking his arms behind his head.

“Ride me.”

“Lazy werewolf,” Stiles said, getting up and kneeling over Derek’s thighs. He grabbed the condom and ripped it open, pulling out the condom and tossing the wrapped on the carpet. He watched as Stiles placed his hand on Derek’s cock, letting the warmth of his flesh seep into the hardness and Derek closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh, rumbling low in his chest as Stiles stroked him gently, up and down, up and down, long fingers curling around his tightening balls.

Stiles laughed softly. “You’re purring.”

Derek smiled, his eyes still closed. “I do not purr.”

He felt Stiles’s warm breath across the head of his cock a second before Stiles’s mouth took his cock inside. Derek shuddered, looking down at Stiles’s mouth stretched around his hardness, slipping further into that wet cavern as Stiles sucked him in. Derek sucked in a quick breath when he felt Stiles’s mouth surround one of his balls, licking and sucking gently, slipping his lips over it as he pulled off and moving to the other one to give it the same treatment. He pressed his thighs apart, leisurely rubbing his foot along Stiles’s calf muscle.

“Yes, just a little more,” Derek murmured, untucking one of his arms and petting the back of Stiles’s neck with his hand. He watched avidly at the way Stiles’s mouth moved up and down on him, pretty brown eyes flicking up to look at Derek, hands curled around Derek’s hips. When Derek gave the back of his neck a harder squeeze, Stiles groaned and Derek fell back against the bed, shivering at the vibrations against the head of his cock. “Come on, Stiles…”

Stiles sat up and slipped the condom down over Derek. He grabbed the lube and squeezed a large dollop on his fingers, moving them behind him as he rose on his knees. Derek watched as Stiles prepped himself, running his hands up Stiles’s trembling thighs. He picked up the lube and squeezed some onto his condom-covered cock, slicking it and holding it up, guiding Stiles down on the head.

He was tight and warm, easing down Derek’s length easily. Stiles grinned at him, hands grabbing Derek’s shoulders for balance until he was fully seated. Derek kept his hands on Stiles’s hips, tugging him impatiently, urging him to move.

“Stop it,” Stiles said, chuckling. “I’m driving, dude.”

Derek barked out a laugh, holding his hands in the air in compliance and tucking them back under his head. He liked the feel of Stiles over him, nearly weightless as he swayed and moved. Derek arched and adjusted his hips, moaning at the way that Stiles seemed to just draw his cock right inside, the heat and slickness pressed all around him.

Stiles took his time, moving above him, trying to find the best angle, the best pace. Derek watched as his forehead beaded in sweat, his face and chest flushed a dark pink, as Stiles threw back his head and let out a throaty whimper, his hips ratcheting up in speed now. Derek smiled, adjusting his hips and thrusting up as Stiles moved back on him, giving him the angle that he needed.

“Yeah, that’s good, ohhh yes, that’s good, Derek,” Stiles chanted, panting and licking his lips. He grinned, looking down at Derek. “Good boy.”

Derek laughed, giving a harder thrust, feeling Stiles’s pre-come dribbling onto his skin. He reached down with one hand, curling firmly around Stiles’s cock, thumbing the slippery head. Stiles groaned, shifting so that he could fuck into Derek’s hand and then fuck back onto Derek’s cock. Derek smiled, loosening his grip slightly and Stiles dropped his head to stare at Derek in disbelief.

“Derek! Come on! I’m so close.”

“I know,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Then don’t tease!”

“Tell me that I’m a good boy and maybe I’ll get you off.”

“Jesus,” Stiles hissed, moving on his cock faster. “You’re a good boy, Derek, a very good boy…a good boy who wants to give me a hand…ohhh fuck! Fuck!”

Derek stroked him hard and fast, over the head, as Stiles lost his rhythm and chased after his pleasure.

“Fuck!” He drawled out, clenching his muscles hard around Derek’s cock, wetness pulsing over Derek’s hand and the pungent scent of his come filling Derek’s senses.

Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s arms, shaking through his orgasm. Derek chuckled and spun them around so that Stiles was on his back on the bed, legs automatically curling around Derek’s hips. He groaned when Derek grabbed Stiles’s hands and pressed them against the bed, his knees braced against the smooth duvet cover.

“Okay, your turn, go for it, Alpha.”

Derek growled, feeling his eyes go red at hearing Stiles call him Alpha, and thrust into Stiles’s body hard and fast.

“Ohmygod, really? That get you going?” Stiles murmured, grinning wickedly. “Come on, _Alpha_ , fuck me. Fucking do it, big guy.”

Seriously, Stiles was going to kill him. He groaned, tucking his face against Stiles’s neck, inhaling the scent of him – come and pleasure and happiness and warmth – and Derek growled, his teeth itching to press against soft and vulnerable flesh.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, holding him tightly, murmuring the dirtiest words into Derek’s ear:

_Fuck me, Alpha._

_Fucking come inside of me, Alpha._

_You want to take me apart, don’t you, Alpha?_

_I want it, too, Alpha._

_Derek, come on. Come._

_Go ahead. You can bite me, Alpha._

Derek mouthed Stiles’s neck, teeth pressing into the skin as he came, quick and hard and deep, shaking something loose inside of him, letting the werewolf out enough to howl against Stiles’s flesh. He sucked on the skin, over and over again, tasting the blood swimming underneath.

He panted, dropping down on top of Stiles, trying to catch his breath and pull his werewolf back inside. The wolf inside of him was pretty much just lolling in its pleasure, unresisting as he rolled on his back and whined for more.

“Ohmygod, can’t breathe,” Stiles said against Derek’s ear.

“Mmmmmmm…”

Stiles bit his earlobe hard and Derek snapped his head up, glaring down at Stiles.

“Ouch!”

“Breathing! It’s important to me!” Stiles snapped back.

Derek huffed out a breath and carefully pulled his cock from inside of Stiles and plopped down on his back on the bed.

Stiles snickered and Derek turned his head to look at him.

“What?”

He watched as Stiles rubbed at the multiple hickies blooming against the side of his neck. “Just thinking that I couldn’t ever work for the magazine now, not with you marking the hell out of me.”

Derek frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry, heat of the moment—“

“No, no, I’m pretty sure I like them,” Stiles said, grinning at him. “It is ‘them,’ right? It’s not just one hickie, is it?”

Derek blushed, shrugging a shoulder. “You’re going to have to cover them up.”

“You know how you can make it up to me? Make me a sandwich, I’m hungry.”

Derek met his eyes and they both started laughing. Stiles rolled on his side and curled in against Derek, pressing his face against Derek’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding him close, their legs tangling together.

***

“It’s weird; your kitchen and dining room are on the second floor,” Stiles said, leaning his naked hip against the counter, eating his sandwich. “The Dakota has some bizarre architecture.”

Derek stared at the side of Stiles’s neck, licking his lips as he stared at the half a dozen marks that he had left behind on the human. He had no idea that he had been so rough…or so possessive. Stiles was covered in bruises; pale skin blossoming with purple-pink finger shaped marks, half-moon wedges from Derek’s finger nails, and the press of Derek’s teeth marks against the side of Stiles’s neck.

“I thought you were going to give up modeling,” Derek said, taking a bite from his sandwich.

“New York is an expensive city to live in.”

“I could give you…”

Stiles gave him a look, his eyebrow raising.

“Not like that,” he backtracked hastily.

He watched as Stiles chewed thoughtfully, a smile moving on his face. “Dude, thanks for wanting to keep me in the luxury that I’m totally not used to…but no thanks. I really can make the money from this shoot last a long time. Besides, I’m going to graduate in a few months and I’m going to get a job.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Derek doesn’t tell Stiles that he had “helped” a few of his lovers through tight financial spots. He didn’t think Stiles would like the comparison.

“Anyway, I kind of really like you,” Stiles said, shyly. “I like you a lot…I’m shallow and I think you’re hot and you’re great in bed, but I don’t need your money. I don’t want you for that.”

“How do you want me then?”

Stiles opened his mouth, warm eyes dropping down the length of Derek’s naked body, looking his fill, lingering here and there, at the jut of his hip bone, the width of his thigh, the hairy tops of his feet. Stiles grinned, wolfishly, as he wiggled his eyebrows at Derek.

If Stiles were a werewolf, he’d hear Derek’s heartbeat increase. But since Stiles was human, he wouldn’t be able to pick up on any of Derek’s hopeful cues.

“You know, go on more dates, go back downstairs for more of that,” Stiles said, giving him a leering wink. “Get to know each other. Hang out in my crappy city dorm room and watch movies on Netflix on my twin bed. And I know a million places in the city that doesn’t cost a lot of money. You know, the usual stuff. Dating.”

Derek grinned, looking down at the sandwich in his hand. Maybe he was expecting the sex, but he wasn’t expecting Stiles to want to date him.

“Say something, don’t leave me hanging here, dude.”

“It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to date me, Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’re _Derek Hale_ —“

“Yeah, they want to date ‘Derek Hale’ the public figure…it’s just business.” He grinned and let out a long sight. “It’s been years since I was on a real date, I can’t even remember.”

“So…you like the idea of dating me?”

Derek considered it. There was no doubt that it was going to be complicated; he had no idea if Stiles was even up for being in the public eye with Derek. As senior editor and publisher for Neckz-n-Throats, Derek had a lot of public appearances and press obligations. He didn’t expect Stiles to be there, holding his hand, always on the sidelines or in the background. There would be times when the press and paparazzi would mercilessly try to tear Stiles down; try to delve into every single intimate moment of their lives. It wasn’t something that Derek wished on anyone.

“We’ll probably fight and break up a dozen times,” Derek said, smiling at him.

Stiles laughed. “Oh at least a dozen times…but then we’ll make up and the make up sex would be incredibly hot.”

Derek could smell that Stiles was genuinely attracted to him. Maybe all the other baggage didn’t really matter.

He dropped his sandwich and kissed Stiles, licking the mayo from the corner of his mouth. He bent over and slung Stiles over his shoulder, headed for the spiral staircase for the first floor.

“Seriously, as you always going to carry me to the bedroom whenever you feel like it?”

“Yes. I’m the Alpha. Get used to it.”

Stiles laughed, pressing a kiss on Derek’s back. “I’m usually not this easy on a first date!”

Derek gently dropped Stiles to his bed and laughed when he saw that Stiles was still holding on to his half-finished sandwich. He pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’s mouth.

“Dating you is going to be easy.”

 


End file.
